


In Which Making Bets With The Stoll Twins Isn't Always A Bad Thing

by notsowriterly



Series: Percy Jackson Tumblr Reposts [4]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: And Will wants to lick them, M/M, Nico has tattoos, That's it. That's the fic.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:26:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsowriterly/pseuds/notsowriterly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man straightened up, looking at them all, one eyebrow raised, and Will knew he was fucked. Will didn’t know how someone could look like this, like he’d walked out of all the fantasies that Will didn’t even know he had. His tattoo matched his eyes and the sooty color of his hair, and he was pale as porcelain, so every bit of ink he had stood out in stark contrast, begging to be explored.</p><p>Will just really, really wanted to lick his tattoos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which Making Bets With The Stoll Twins Isn't Always A Bad Thing

Will Solace should know better than to make a bet with Travis Stoll. It’s pretty well known that in the entire school, the Stoll brothers are the most notorious for winning their bets.

At the time, it’d seemed like a good idea. Will was a med student, and he’d had plenty of practice with wrapping bandages. Daring him to do it faster than Leo Valdez wasn’t quite a stretch. Leo was more hyperactive than all of them, and Will figured his energy would make it easier for his fingers to fumble on the wraps. But one thing he hadn’t counted on, was that Leo Valdez was an expert at working with tiny screws, and small machine parts in high stress situations. And his fingers were  _quick_. It was two seconds. Just two seconds. 

But Will had lost.

And now he had to get a tattoo.

His mother was going to kill him. Six people had already signed up to witness the humiliation, and one of his brothers had called dibs on being there when he told his mom. Connor Stoll had done the honor of booking the appointment himself.

And now, looking up at the sign: Half Blood Tattoo Parlor, Will was ready to run. Who put the word “blood” in the name of their parlor? It was hardly reassuring. Travis clapped him on the shoulder.

“Nervous, Solace?”

Little fucker. Will shook his head, despite the way the back of his neck felt like a rope that someone tugged on too tight. Clarrisse smiled at him meanly, opening the door and smirking. Will knew that she was remembering the time she’d lost a bet to him and he’d made her speak in couplets for the rest of the week. She’d come up with some colorful rhymes then, things to do with his mental health and explicit explainations on how she was going to castrate him, but she hadn’t broke the bet. Clarrise was nothing if not serious in her bets. Part of the reason he was going through the damn bet in the first place was because he knew what she’d do to him if he didn’t.

The moment he walked in, his mind drew up a blank. There was a guy bent over, shirtless, the top of his back covered in a dark tattoo that curled up his neck and trickled down his spine, stopping short of the small dip at the small of his back. Will’s mouth went abruptly dry.

The man straightened up, looking at them all, one eyebrow raised, and Will knew he was fucked. Will didn’t know how someone could look like this, like he’d walked out of all the fantasies that Will didn’t even know he had. His tattoo matched his eyes and the sooty color of his hair, and he was pale as porcelain, so every bit of ink he had stood out in stark contrast, begging to be explored.

Will just really, _really_  wanted to lick his tattoos.

Mr. Sexy Tattoo Artist raised on perfect eyebrow.

“Which one of you is Will Solace?”

Will opened his mouth to speak, but Connor beat him to it, slapping him on the back. “It’s this lucky fellow. He’s a virgin, so take care of him, would you?”

Will went abruptly red. “I am not!” Then he realized what he said, and groaned, burying his face in his hands as the Stolls roared with laughter. When he finally managed to peek through his fingers at the tattoo artist’s expression, the tattoo artist looked vaguely amused. Will wondered if it was too late for him to walk out and save him from further embarassment. Clarisse’s expression said it was.

“He meant a tattoo virgin,” the artist clarified. “You haven’t been tattooed before, have you?” Will shook his head, and the artist smiled. There was a dimple in his cheek, and his eyes lightened to brown when he smiled. Will was hopelessly enamoured. “You’ll be fine. How about we go to the back and figure out what you want?”

Will nodded, and followed him to the back.

The entire time the tattoo artist–who’s name was Nico, apparently, how was it possible that he had a sexy name as well?–talked to him about his tattoo, his eyes were focused with laser like intensity on Will, and Will was not handling it well. Despite Nico finally putting on a shirt, Will could see the tips of his tattoo peeking out on his neck, and everytime they shifted, Will was getting distracted.

Nico led him to the chair, the entire time Travis and Connor slipping hints about how much tattoos hurt, especially the first time, and Clarrisse’s smirk was definitely not helping, and Will was getting more and more nervous. Then Nico put a hand on his arm and everything Will stilled as he looked up into Nico’s steady eyes.

“You’ll be fine,” he promised, and Will believed him.

At the first press of the needle, Will almost jumped. It stung, a bit, but not as back as the Stolls made it seem. Nico’s hand was gentle around his ankle, rubbing soft circles in the dip before his Achilles tendon, and it definitely was not helping Will’s boner, and neither was the way that Nico looked, hunched over to see, the way Will could see the faint outline of his tattoo through his white t-shirt. Will focused on the ceiling and tried to think of his grandmother, focus on the fact that Leo had arrived with Jason in tow, and the arguement that the Stoll brothers were having. Nothing really helped.

Especially when Jason kept giving Will that knowing look like he knew exactly what Will was thinking.

When the tattoo was over, it was both terrible and a relief. Will missed Nico’s cool hands on him, and he hated himself for missing it already. The peanut gallery oh’ed and ah’ed over the tattoo, which was a sun, along with the name “Michael Yew” in curling script in honor of Will’s brother that died in war. Will liked it a lot. He couldn’t stop looking at it, his fingers underlining the letters. Nico was smiling at him softly.

“Thanks,” Will said.

Nico shrugged it off. He’d already stressed the importance of taking care of it, it was all paid for, there was nothing more to really do. They said their good bye’s and Jason kept looking at Will in that weird way, and the more steps that Will took away from the tattoo parlour, the more it seemed to tug at him. Finally, when he turned around the corner, he couldn’t take it more.

“Wait a second, I’ll be right back,” he told the group, and they all gave him a look that said,  _finally_.

When he burst back into the shop again, Nico’s head snapped up from wear he was cleaning tools. He raised an eyebrow at the way Will was panting. So he wasn’t in shape, sue him. They all couldn’t be greek gods with sexy tattoos.

“May I help you?” Nico asked, turning to him.

“I was wondering…if I could take you out sometime?” Will gasped out, and Nico’s face went abruptly blank.

That wasn’t a good sign.

Nico got up, and Will shifted from one foot to the other, bracing for rejection. Nico took his arm, and Will’s brow furrowed. What was he doing? This wasn’t how normal people said no. Then Nico took out a sharpie, and scrawled something in his arm, and Will felt his heart slowly lift as he realized they were numbers. Then Nico looked him, a corner of his mouth tugging up, and Will went breathless.

“Call me. I’m free next Friday.” Nico said, and then leaned up to kiss him on the cheek, and Will’s body _buzzed_.

When he walked out of the shop for the second time, he was beaming.


End file.
